I've spent at least 7 hours in a waiting room lobby of a hospital. I haven't slept decently, my everything hurts, and I'm tired as crap.
My dad got admitted to a 3 day stay in a hospital yesterday.
I'm not exactly sure how to feel about it, besides excessive amounts of worry. Mostly because it's sorta nebulous right now. Why is he sick? Dunno. What will the doctors do? Dunno. How long until some answers? Dunno. And in those moments of just waiting, waiting, waiting...it's hard to do anything EXCEPT worry.
Of course, I'm not used to anyone in my immediate family really getting sick. The last time my mom went to a doctor, it was because she was pregnant with me. Last time my dad saw a doctor was at LEAST a decade ago. So maybe a 3 day stint in a hospital is really no big deal if you're kinda not well. Yet, my dad is a chronic smoker and drinker, which just perpetuates the concern, because of course that kind of behavior will catch up to you...even if you just try to pretend it won't. When I was a little kid, I'd always tell my dad, "Daaaaaddy, smoking is bad! The TV told me so! You should stop!" and he'd laugh it off, and make false promises that consisted of "sure kiddo, one day". You fast forward 15 years or so, and you're listening to a doctor chastise the both of us, me for not trying harder to stop his bad habits, and him for smoking upwards of 40 years straight. Let alone the drinking... 200/113 blood pressure is quite scary, too.
He's had a minor skin infection on his foot. What went wrong was that he decided to treat it himself, buying steroid cream that he ended up being allergic to. Then when my mom and I noticed, it was because the infection was so irritated that it made him unconsciously scratch at it, making everything way way worse. Now, it's not healing, even after antibiotic treatment. So they wanna keep him a few days to run some tests, because they're thinking his liver might be heavily damaged from years of drinking, causing his skin to be easily irritated, thus preventing the infection from healing.
It makes you realize the mortality of people you're close to.
Hopefully it's just something that can easily be treated. I don't even care that he doesn't have insurance, I just want him to NOT have something mega serious. Because, what then, do you do? There's no use in worrying, yet you can't just really tell your brain to stop doing such.
I'll probably know what's up later today. I pray and hope that he's gonna be okay...cuz he has to be.
As this is a bit depressing to type, and probably read, here's a funny, yet almost painful instance with my old man:
Me: Hey dad, you want something to eat? There's a vending machine here.
Dad: Uh...what do they have? Get me whatever.
Me: Aaaalright, here's some chips and a soda.
Dad: Ew! That's so unhealthy! You've got to be kidding me! ...now where are my cigarettes?!
LATER THAT DAY
Me: Hey, okay, they're gonna keep you here overnight...do you want some food from outside?
Dad: Yes! Yes please! Get me the Burger King! That is good!
Me: But...that's...even more unhe---oh never mind.
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